More Than Words
by theoptimisticrealist
Summary: A story of finding your way back to the person you love more than words. AU. Set somewhere in S5.
1. Prologue

** A/N: **Not my first time around the block, but the first time in a longggg time. So sorry for the awkward just-getting-back-into-writing-phase, and the unoriginal, cliched plot. but you gotta start somewhere, no?

This is set sometime before the 'Secret Santa' ep. In other words, a Caskett Christmas never happened in this 'verse.  
I know. I'm an awful fangirl. But give it a chance anyways. ;) It's kind of short, but more will be added on (and explained!) with the next update, if this is good enough to continue.

Reviews and critiques are always welcome. Always.

**Disclaimer: **Disclaimed.

* * *

**_Prologue_**

_November 27, 2012_

_"I want to take today off."_

_Rick turned to her and laughed. "I thought you were worried about being _late_, now you don't even wanna go_ in_?"_

_She groaned, rolling into his chest. "Don't question me."_

_He held back another laugh and kissed her forehead, throwing his arm over her side._

_She would never admit it out loud, but she adored the warmth of his embrace._

_"Take today off, then. But what did you want to do instead?"_

_"I want to go out. _Do_ something."_

_"Other than-"_

_"Yes, Castle, other than you." She rolled her eyes, smiling._

_"Fine," he huffed, playfulness dancing through his eyes and smile. "Like what?"_

_"Mmm, I don't know..." she hummed against his skin, bringing a warm smile to his lips. "How 'bout we just go and like, walk around the city? It's been a while since I've been out and not on the job."_

_"But it's so cold outside," he moaned, rolling over to bury his face in the pillow, hiding from the mere prospect of twenty-degree weather._

_"That's usually what winter entails."_

_She heard a muffled sound from him, to which she gave a laugh. "Come on, get up."_

_He groaned as Kate_ _smacked his butt; then she herself got up, leaving the space beside him cold and empty, and smelling of her._

_Rick turned his head slightly to see her stretch. "How are you so_ happy_ this early? It's disgusting," he remarked, getting a cackle in response._

_He watched as she suddenly turned, making her way back across the room to him slowly, a seductive grin playing across her face. Her eyes were narrowed, but dancing in the glint of the sunlight._

_Her knees hit the side of the bed, and she got on all fours to crawl over to him._

_He laid still as she moved to lay on top of him, lowering her torso to touch the smooth, warm skin of his back._

_She ducked her head so that her mouth met his ear, and he shivered at the contact._

_"Maybe it's just because you were so electrifying last night," she purred, the 'eelll' rolling on her tongue, her warm breath caressing the side of his face._

_"Oh-ho," he chuckled, flipping over before she could even realize what was happening._

_She let out a shocked giggle as he attacked her neck with his lips, planting kisses on her throat and jawline, panting and grinning against her skin._

_She writhed beneath him, the sound of jubilant laughter mixing with sharp intakes of breath and soft moans._

_"Cas-" she half-panted out, "we're never gonna leave if you keep this up."_

_He gave a low, throaty chuckle for the second time. "That's the idea, Detective."_

_Kate began to roll her eyes, but a loud gasp escaped her as Rick's mouth found the spot where her throat met the bottom of her jaw._

_"Fine," she breathed, closing her eyes as he nipped at and soothed her skin, stars clouding her vision. "But after this, you're taking me out to breakfast."_

_"Deal."_

* * *

**December 30, 2012**

Kate leaned against the Crown Vic, the cold of the metal piercing through her coat.

She exhaled, her breath taking the form of swirling, cloudy puffs that dissipated into the air within seconds.

She watched the people across the street; mothers desperately attempting to keep their children reined in, businessman dressed to the nines in suits and carrying briefcases full of who-knows-what. Tourists were marveling at the happenings of post-Christmas New York City, an excited tension resonating through the air at the prospect of New Year's Eve.

Kate sighed suddenly, breaking the silence on her side of the street.

It all felt so, completely, _horribly_ wrong.

Empty.

It was a panicky-void, as if she'd misplaced something important, but didn't quite realize what it was. As if she'd forgotten to pack some vital possession before a long trip.

An aching, searing void, as if there was just simply space in her chest, where her heart had once been.

She looked down at the ground, pushing together a small pile of snow with the toe of her shoe. Her hands burrowed deeper into her coat pockets, fingers clenched together in tight fists to stay warm.

Memories of ice and swirling cold abruptly overwhelmed her, crystalline blue coloring her vision.

Memories of feeling his body go cold beside her, the soothing pulse of the blood running through his veins slowing down.

Memories of the feelings she'd experienced; of impending, looming death, and the inescapable, haunting fact that he'd never know just how much he meant to her.

The pile of slush at her toe had grown to something of a hill, possibly even Everest from an ant's point of view.

She stared at it, not really seeing it, or seeing anything, for that matter.

She was back in that freezer, hopeless.

Despairing.

She choked on the lump in her throat.

"You...okay?"

Kate looked up to see Esposito standing to the side of her, lines of concern etched across his forehead.

She cleared her throat.

"Um, yeah, I'm fine. You ready?"

He hesitated, giving her a look that told her he knew better, but was gonna let it slide just this once.

"Yeah."

"Awesome." She pushed herself off the side of the car, walking around the front of it to get to the driver's side door.

She forced herself to swallow whatever her brain was tricking her into feeling before taking a seat in front of the steering wheel.

_Gets easier everyday_, she thought.

Although her brain and chest screamed at her the exact opposite.

_'Gets _worse_ everyday, you idiot.'_

* * *

"Beckett."

Kate's eyes shot up from the bank statements on her desk that had begun to blur together to watch Gates make her way over to her, with firm, sure strides.

"Yes?"

"Can I speak with you?"

She looked around her. "Um-"

"In my office."

"Um, yes." She gave her a slight nod and stood up to follow her across the bullpen.

Gates closed the office door as Kate crossed the threshold of the room, unsure. "I'm sure you know what this is about."

"Uh, actually, I'm not quite sure I do-"

"Detective Beckett," the Captain stopped her, and then hesitated.

Kate had to keep her eyes from widening. She'd never seen Gates uncertain in her dealings with her, or the boys before.

"I am quite sorry for your...for everything that has happened recently."

"Ah." Her eyebrows made minuscule movements of acknowledgement.

"I understand that you say you're fine, Detective, but I've seen you at your desk. You stare off into space. You're distracted."

Kate felt a pang reverberate through her chest. She opened her mouth to argue, but Gates held up a finger and continued.

"You are upset, Beckett." Her voice softened, surprising her audience of one yet again. "And that is perfectly understandable. But I can't keep letting you go out in the field like you've been doing, and risk your safety, or any one of my other officers'."

Kate looked down, fidgeting with her fingers. "I'm fine, sir. It won't happen again."

"You're right, it won't. I'm telling you right now to go home and get some rest. Work through some things. I didn't know the entire story with you two, but it's all still much too fresh for you to be here right now.''

"But, sir-"

"That's an order."

Her mouth snapped shut, and she turned a steely gaze to the floor as she turned to leave. "Yes sir."

"Kate?"

Her hand froze on the smooth metal of the doorknob, and her feet suddenly stopped moving.

"I _am_ sorry."

"Yeah," she whispered. "Me too."

* * *

Katherine Beckett used to feel a sense of safety and of warmth when she opened her apartment door.

A sense of comfort, of _home_.

But now?

It might as well have been Siberia.

A mournful sigh emanating from her mouth echoed through the empty space, bouncing off the walls.

It was then, in the silence that followed, that she realized how cavernous the place felt, and just how alone she was.

A powerful sob abruptly wracked her body from the inside-out, and she crumpled to the ground in a broken heap as she grieved the very idea of love, and what it had cost her exactly, to lose.

* * *

The hours passed by, yet Kate continued to lay on the cold, unforgiving floor of her apartment, staring vacantly at the painting on her living room wall.

The doomsday painting, the one that she had immediately, mysteriously fallen in love with after feeling the strong, pervading sense of foreboding for the first time.

The doomsday painting that he had told her he loved her in front of, the painting she had screamed at him for betraying her in front of.

The painting that had eventually seen them come together as one, one beating heart and soul, time and again.

That painting had seen a lot.

So much.

_If art could talk_, the thought crossed her mind.

Her eyes took in the deep, muted purples and mauves that dashed the subject's clothing, the grey of the storm-clouds moving in.

All at one, the only thing she began to see were colors that blurred into one, until darkness became all her vision could perceive.

She suddenly realized how tired she was, how emotionally and physically drained.

Kate mentally talked herself into getting up, and getting into bed.

She told herself it'd be beneficial, that she needed a good night's rest, considering how fitful and sleep-less the last few nights had been.

She pushed aside the looming thought that she hadn't been able to sleep in her bed for the past few weeks, because it still smelled of _him_.

It still screamed of his absence.

The fact that he was _gone_, for good.

She shook her head, resolute in her decision to get some sleep, and was just making her way to her bedroom when there was suddenly a knock at her front door.

Kate groaned as she froze in place, closing her eyes in frustration and fatigue.

Her foot pivoted, circling her body around so that it pointed at the door.

She sighed once, and then made firm steps to the door, trying her best to distort her face into one that looked like it hadn't been drowned in tears on the floor. "Coming!"

It was probably just one of the boys, she thought, coming to check up on her-

"Hey_,_" came the greeting, as the door finished flinging open.

As if nothing had happened.

And, just like that, Kate Beckett's world came crashing down all over again, for the third time that month.

"_Castle_?"


	2. Chapter 1

** A/N: **Here's the second installment...hope you enjoy! Sorry it took me a little while...had to finish finals. But now I am on Christmas break, so I'm a happy girl!

Sorry for the angst this chapter delivers. But I promise our favorite people will soon begin to realize there's no one else for them. ;) Therefore, please do not 'grab your torch and pitchfork,' if I may.

Hope you all had a great Christmas, or whatever you may celebrate with your loved ones. (:

Again, reviews are the best.

**Disclaimer: **If I owned _Castle_, I'd be happy, because I'd know Stana Katic and Nathan Fillion.

**_Alas._**

* * *

___**Chapter One**_

_November 30, 2012_

_"How is he?" Martha ran up to the surgeon, Alexis bolting after her._

_Kate stood, and watched as the doctor's face fell._

_Oh God, oh no. This can't be happening._

_Rick was _not _dead. Especially not the way they ended things._

_It would kill her, eat her alive from the inside-out._

_She forced herself to focus back on the doctor, even though it seemed like the most difficult thing possible, in that moment._

_"He's alive."_

_"Oh, thank God," breathed the red-headed women in front of her._

_The surgeon looked down, causing Kate's heart to drop. _

_She'd seen that look before._

_It was the way cops looked right before they gave a death notification, or some other horrid news._

_The downcast glance, the slumped shoulders...the set-in-stone face that was determined to be strong, because who else would be for the family? _

_The family needed to grieve, needed someone to be strong for them. Needed someone to promise they would bring justice and closure to the situation. _

_Someone to give their loved one a voice, since they could no longer speak._

_It was for that reason that Kate Beckett's blood froze, that her heart plummeted to her feet._

_"Unfortunately, we ran into some complications during surgery. The bullet nicked part of his temporal __lobe, right above his ear." He paused. "Mr. Castle is alive, but is currently in a coma, and will be for some time. We have no idea when he will wake up, but we are almost certain there will be some memory loss when he does. How much, we're not sure of quite yet, but it damaged a large part of the lobe. If the trajectory of the bullet had been a mere few degrees lower on impact, it would have severed his spinal cord and killed him. It should give you an idea on just how severe the damage was."_

_Kate suddenly went numb, the blood cold in her veins. _

_She watched as Martha collapsed to the ground in grief, and as Alexis simply stood there in shock._

_Was this really happening?_

_"I'm so sorry. We did everything we could."_

_"Thank you" was all she could choke out, to which the doctor somberly nodded and walked away, his head down._

_The world began to spin, and Kate blindly grasped for something to hold onto. _

_Her hands found the nearest chair, and she pulled herself into it. _

_Why did she let him go along? Why did she let him follow her that night? __Why didn't she just tell him to go home, that they'd talk it over later?_

_The one-syllable question echoed throughout her brain, setting everything on fire until all feeling was gone, burnt out._

_Why? _

_Why was this happening?_

_Why did she _let_ it happen?_

_She suddenly realized Martha and Alexis were still where they were, and slowly got up to go over to them. She knelt beside Martha and placed a hand on her back, beginning to move it in a soothing, circular pattern._

_She reached up and took Alexis' hand in the other one, and stood up after a second to wrap her in a hug._

_"It'll be okay. It'll work out, somehow. He'll come back to us." _

_Whispered assurance was all she could give in that moment._

_Kate, however, wasn't quite sure if it was more for Alexis' benefit...or for hers._

* * *

**December 30, 2012**

Scotch never seemed to do the trick anymore. Neither did the bourbon in her cabinet, nor the wine in the rack.

It'd been a month.

One month since her hopes and dreams had crumbled, and then had built back up...only to crumble again. All in the same night.

One month since she found out he might never come back to her.

And yet, he had come back. He'd shown up on her doorstep, just an hour ago. As if the past month was merely a dream; a vicious, thirst-induced mirage in the desert.

He was back, and she wasn't sure how she should feel about it.

She felt so lost, so unbelievably confused and desperate.

The scotch burned on its way down her throat, spreading a warmth through her being.

It just didn't seem to be enough this time around, though.

A sigh escaped her lips as the amber liquid began to course through her veins.

_Fuck._

It was never supposed to happen like this.

He was the first to break the silence that had enveloped them since his arrival.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine."

All she wanted to do was run into his arms, to hold him and be held by him, to hear him whisper sweet words in her ear, to have him tell her he'd never leave again.

But she couldn't.

So she stood on the other side of the room, twirling the scotch glass in her hand, while he leaned against the island in her kitchen.

Worry creased his face.

"Look, just because stuff happened, it doesn't mean that I don't still lo-" he stopped himself abruptly, but it was too late.

She'd heard it.

And even though it was all she wanted to hear in that moment, she desperately blocked it out.

"I worry about you, Kate," came the low admittance. "The boys told me you haven't been doing so...well."

She scoffed. "You talked to Ryan and Espo?"

"I went to the precinct to find you, but you'd already left. Ryan told me Gates sent you home, and Esposito kind of filled in some lines. They were...a little shocked to see me."

"I wonder why."

"Kate, could you just talk to me?"

"I told you, I'm fine."

"You don't sound like it. Or look like it."

A second scoff. "How would you know?"

Castle sighed. "Fine. Block me out. Put your walls back up. Isn't that what got us into this mess in the first place?"

"Don't you dare blame me for all of this," she gritted out between her teeth. "That isn't even close to fair."

"Neither is this! I almost die, and I come back to make sure _you're_ okay? Where is the fairness in that, Kate?"

"Just because you got shot doesn't mean everything is fixed, Rick!"

"I know it doesn't mean that! I just figured you'd at least have the decency to-"

"To what?" She spat out.

"To show some kind of emotion! To act like everybody else, like a normal human being!"

Kate choked back a sob as his words punched her in the gut.

"Well, doesn't this seem familiar?" She sneered, holding back tears. "This is exactly what we were fighting over last time. This is useless, Rick. Pointless. We talk ourselves in circles until one of us leaves."

"You made the choice to leave last time. It wasn't me."

"It might as well have been."

"But it wasn't. Don't you see? You're the one who gave up. I was right here, _waiting_ for you to come back to me!"

Her whisper sliced through the air, barely audible, but oh, so painfully loud.

"I couldn't."

"_Why_?" He pleaded with her, begged her to explain, to...to do _something. _Pain distorted his features as he watched her stand silent before him. His vision began to cloud as tears escaped and filled his eyes.

Kate looked down at her feet, her mouth clamped shut as _she_ felt tears beginning to form.

"That's it, then?" Broken resignation rang through his voice, cracking his words apart. "Nothing is left?"

She didn't look up at him, didn't answer, didn't do anything.

"Fine," he choked out. "I get it. Loud and clear."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Yeah." Castle turned to leave. "So am I."

She sank against the wall behind her as he crossed her apartment towards the front door, the dull, ever-present ache that plagued her entire being intensifying the further away he got.

Each of his footsteps resonated deeply through her chest, until they suddenly stopped in front of her door.

He froze momentarily, hand stuck to the doorknob.

Something tugged at his heart, urging him back to her, to go and beg her to stay, just _stay._

But at her silence, at her resolve to do absolutely nothing to get him back, he turned the knob, and left.

And, with the click of the door, what was left of Kate Beckett's heart shattered, into pieces.

* * *

The clink of the ice cubes in his glass seemed to mock him.

The pictures on his wall seemed to laugh at him.

Everything, for that matter, seemed to take joy in his desolate misery.

The strong desire to punch something overwhelmed him, but was conflicted with the need to sob, and the need to scream.

He hated her.

She killed him; she ripped him open and mutilated what was left, like some gruesome murder from one of his books.

He hated her.

She had tricked him into letting himself believe that maybe love wasn't so bad after all, that maybe they had something together, and that maybe 'always' wasn't just a word, but an insanely deep promise. It'd been more than a word to him for a long time, but the feeling was apparently unrequited.

She'd tricked him into making him believe she loved him.

He hated her.

But, God, how he loved her.

Everything inside him screamed to go back to her, to make things right. To hold her and never let her go, to make _'always'_ a reality, rather than a dream of his.

He felt so incredibly _stupid_.

And suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by his mother's voice.

"Richard?"

"In here."

"Oh, there you are-" she stopped in the doorway, taking in her son's appearance. "Richard, are you okay?"

He gave a small, sullen laugh.

"Something like that."

"Did you go and see Kate? Is that why you're..." she trailed off, racking her brain for the right words to give him. "Did something happen?"

"No. I just need to...work through some stuff."

"Well, if nothing happened, then why-"

"That's just it, Mother!" He laughed again, despair taking the form of spite to cloud his brain. "_Nothing _happened. Everything seems to be exactly the same as it was before..." seeing her pained reaction, he stopped. "Before I got shot," he finished quietly.

"I see."

Everything was still for a second, until Martha could no longer take it.

"Oh, Richard," she mourned, moving to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders. "I'm so sorry, darling."

"I thought she loved me," came the broken reply.

And, with that, the darkness wept for him, since tears would no longer come.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: **SO SORRY for the very late update! I had a family emergency that came up that ended up taking a lot of time to resolve. Long story.  
But I'm back!

THANK YOU ALL so, so much for your responses! You have no idea how much they are appreciated.

Here is the third installment...hopefully you stick with me through this angsty beginning?

I promise, it gets better soon enough! ;)

**Disclaimer: **I own _Castle_.

In my dreams.

* * *

_**Chapter**_** 2**

_December 3, 2012_

_Her thumb traced the soft skin of his hand, roaming over his knuckles._

_She sighed as she looked fondly at him, taking in every feature of his face while she still had the chance. _

_"I'm so sorry," she uttered, choking. "I wish I could take it all back."_

_Kate was surprised that she found herself a bit disappointed over the fact that he didn't wake up and reply._

_That he didn't wake up and tell her it was all okay, that they were more than whatever obstacles came up._

_Because they didn't make sense on paper, but the songs _did_ make sense. Because they promised each other 'always.'_

_And wasn't that all that really mattered?_

_She felt her eyes begin to well up as she looked at him, never taking her hand away from his._

_"Please, wake up." A tear fell from her cheek onto his skin. "Please."_

_A knock at the door interrupted her soliloquy, and she hurriedly wiped at her eyes._

_"Detective Beckett?"_

_"Yeah-yes?" She stood._

_"I'm afraid visiting hours are over," the nurse said, giving her an apologetic look._

_"Oh." Her face fell as she nodded. "Alright, thank you."_

_The woman before her nodded back, offering a kind smile as she turned to go back to her station._

_Kate touched Rick's face with the back of her hand, and softly smiled at his unconscious figure. _

_She turned to leave, but suddenly turned back, and then ducked her head to place her lips against the stubble of his jaw._

_"I miss you, Castle," she whispered into his ear, and then slowly withdrew from his presence until she found herself outside the entrance to the hospital, where she finally let the tears come._

* * *

**December 31, 2012**

The morning sun shot into Kate's room like a bunch of death rays, causing her to groan as she rolled over on her side, burying her face in the pillow to blanket her eyes in darkness.

She opened one eye, peering against the intruding light to see her alarm clock.

Eight o'clock in the morning.

_'Wasn't it just eight p.m.?' _She thought to herself, sighing inwardly.

She reluctantly flung the covers off, swinging her feet off the side of the bed.

A gasp erupted from her mouth as the shock of the freezing floor met her bare feet, and she danced across the room to grab a pair of socks from her dresser.

"Kate?" A female voice called from her living room.

She looked up in confusion. "_Lanie_?"

The M.E. poked her head around the corner of Kate's bedroom door. "You okay?"

"Lanie, what are you doing here?" She laughed, pulling on the socks.

"Freezing my ass off, for starters," she rose her eyebrows at the detective. "Is your heater not turned on?"

Another laugh. "No, it's been acting up for the past week. I've just been bundling up lately. I was gonna call to see about getting it fixed, but I just haven't gotten around to it with everything that's been happening."

"And _that_, my friend, is the other reason I'm here."

"What?"

"Javi told me about Castle. How are you holding up?"

"Ahh," Kate rose her jaw knowingly. "Okay, Lanie, I'm fine."

"You don't look so fine."

She scoffed. "_What _is everyone's deal lately? I am _fine_."

"Alright, if you say so," Lanie surrendered, but Kate could tell she knew better. "Well then, how's Writer-Boy doing?"

"He's fine, I suppose. He was discharged two days ago."

She was met with a blank stare, then a look that said she was waiting for the rest of it. "Well...? What else? Are things okay with you guys?"

"Um," she hesitated, then lowered her voice. "No. Not really."

Lanie's voice lowered too, as she gave Kate a sympathetic look. "Are you still fighting?"

"Yeah. I thought we were gonna be over it when he woke up, that we would fall right back into..." she trailed off, looking up.

"Into each other's arms, huh?"

"Yeah," she breathed. "But apparently that only works in the movies."

"A lot of stuff only works in the movies," Lanie replied, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"I just...I thought I would be so happy to see him _alive_, and, I mean, don't get me wrong-I am. I'm glad he's okay, because I never would've forgiven myself if he wasn't. But there's still so many feelings laying underneath that relief, you know?"

Lanie nodded and remained silent, letting her continue.

"I still feel so much hurt from our argument before the...before the shooting," she forced herself to finish. "And anger, and rage, and sadness, and confusion, and happiness that he's okay, and...just, everything. I feel so many things at once, and I don't know what they create all together."

"You know what they create altogether?"

Kate looked up through blurred, teary vision at her.

"Love," she stated simply.

The brunette gave a small laugh, wiping at her eyes.

"You love him," Lanie goaded her gently. "Don't let him slip away while you are both angry and hurting."

"I just...I don't know how to get back to where we were. So much was said that neither of us can take back. We purposefully hurt each other in the worst way we knew, and that can't be so easily reconciled. It just seems impossible right now, from where I'm standing."

"Then stand somewhere different, girl! You're both crazy about each other, and you've been through too much together to just throw it all away so suddenly."

"Yeah," she nodded, her finger making one last swipe at the wetness on her cheek before falling to her side. "Yeah."

* * *

"Coming, coming," Castle groaned at the obnoxious pounding on his front door.

He flung it open, ready to yell at whoever the hell was stupid enough to wake him up and annoy the living daylights out of him this early in the morning, when her broken smile stopped him in his tracks.

"Hi," she whispered.

His jaw locked in pain and steely anger. "Beckett, what do you want?"

A flood of emotion hit her at the utterance of the question.

'Kate' was gone, and the cold and distant use of her last name was back.

But that question had also been the very same one spoken the night they consummated every feeling they'd felt for the past few years.

Those words had been the ones to leave Rick's mouth right before her lips met his for the second time in their lives, and it had been oh, so painfully sweet.

She briefly entertained the idea of making the same exact movements she'd made that night, but brushed it aside, knowing he was nowhere near the state she wished he was in.

Needed him in.

She hesitated. "I...I was wondering if I could talk with you."

"Talk _with _me, or talk _at _me?" He took his hand off the doorknob and turned to walk into the living room, where she followed him, closing the door behind her.

His sharp words fulfilled their purpose, stinging her like a slap across the face.

"Seriously, Castle?"

"Seriously."

"What is that even supposed to _mean_?"

"It means exactly what it sounds like. I mean, it's all you've done lately," he gritted out. "All we've talked about is what _you've_ wanted to hear. You won't listen to anything otherwise-not anything I have to say. Or, basically, the ugly truth that you don't want to face-"

"Bullshit!" She interrupted him. "All _you've _done is blame me for fucking _everything _that's gone wrong!"

He scoffed. "I wonder why."

There was a moment's pause as what he said weighed down on her, heavy like a blow. And, suddenly, she shattered the silence with broken words.

"You know what? I'm sorry I even _tried _coming here."

Kate stormed to the door - the very same door their lips had once upon a time set fire to each other against.

"Big surprise, Beckett. There you are, leaving again!"

She froze mid-step in front of the entry, refusing to turn back and look at him.

He heard the tears she was fighting back with every choked-up word she uttered in the next second.

"Only because you're chasing me away, Rick."

He watched as she waited half a second and then pulled the door open.

His eyes closed with the closing of the door, and he stood silent, as their pain echoed through the room.

* * *

"Yo, Beckett! What are you doing here-"

Esposito stopped short at the sight of her face and immediately made his way over to her desk, where she was standing staring at the chair beside it. He took her by the shoulders. "C'mon."

He led her into the empty breakroom, closing the door behind them as she sat on the couch, dazed.

"What's goin' on?"

At her silence, he came to crouch in front of her, forcing her eyes to meet his. "Hey."

She inhaled. "He doesn't want me anymore. He doesn't...he doesn't feel the same way anymore."

"Hey, you guys have been through a lot lately. Just give it some time."

"No." She shook her head. "It's too late. He's given up."

"Beckett, that man _loves _you. I can guarantee that."

"Doesn't seem like it," came the mutter.

He sighed. "What happened?"

She hesitated. "I went to talk to him. To see if we could start moving past everything that's been said and done, and...just to see if we could start over again. But um, he...didn't go for it." Her voice quieted. "He just went right on the defensive and put all his walls up and wouldn't let me in."

Esposito looked down for a second, then back up at her. "He's wrong. But you were, too."

Kate looked at him in shock. "_What_?"

"I'm not saying going to him was wrong. I think you're doin' the right thing trying to fix things. He's being a jerk by shooting you down like that." He knit his eyebrows together. "But...what were _you _doing the first time you fought?"

It was her turn to look at her feet.

"Hey," he put a finger under her chin, and she met his eyes again. "I got your back. You know that. But give him some time to heal. He just woke up from a coma that he was put in by being shot, and no, that was not your fault," he added as she opened her mouth to argue. "And so to him, that fight just happened. It's still fresh. Give it time. Okay?"

She gave a slight nod.

"I just miss him," she whispered.

"I know," he patted her knee. "I know you do."

* * *

Kate sludged through the icy snow crowding the back streets of New York City.

The main streets were ridiculously crowded with obnoxious tourists celebrating the start of a new year, and she wanted to avoid their loud, overbearing excitement at all costs.

If that meant snow everywhere versus a cleared street, so be it.

She kept her eyes down on the ground in front of her, only looking up every now and then to stay aware of her surroundings.

Fellow native-New Yorkers that knew to avoid all main streets nodded at her when they passed her by, but remained silent as they continued on.

She wasn't sure why she had decided to just start walking everywhere instead of taking her patrol car, but she felt a strange sense of calm as the chill in the air filled her, clearing her mind of all that cluttered it.

That calm left, however, when a laughing couple passed by hand-in-hand as she crossed Leonard Street, sending a pang through her chest.

_They_ would start the new year together.

In love.

_Happy._

Jealousy and sadness surged through her bones as she remembered the plans she and Castle had once made long ago for New Year's Eve, which were now lost in the wind.

Their plans to be tourists, in essence.

Watch the ball drop in Times Square with thousands of other people from around the world, go ice skating at Rockefeller under the fireworks, hot cocoa in front of the fireplace...

Now she cynically laughed at the stupidity of it all.

What were they thinking? Who were they kidding?

Did they _really_ think it would all work out perfectly between them? That they would live happily ever after?

They were two people with a lot of baggage to carry around, with pasts that seemed to haunt them everywhere they went, at every turn.

She mentally scoffed.

Why did they even bother to dream?

To wish?

To hope?

It was all pointless in the end, moot.

Like Lanie had said earlier, a _lot_ of stuff only happens in the movies.

This was real life they were dealing with.

So who _were_ they kidding?

Kate let out an unsteady exhale, watching the swirl of her breath float up into the air.

She would be alone for the start of this new year. And she would probably be alone for a long, long time after that.

All her hopes and wishes and dreams she had had for this new period in her life flashed before her eyes, seeming to reflect in the windows of the shops surrounding the icy-white street as she walked on.

She would never be the same without him.


End file.
